The Krugman Blackout Continues

Well, the comments are in and only acolytes are allowed in so far. Apparently, he can dish it, but doesn’t enjoy sampling any returns.

Oh, and by the way, my comment on Gail Collins’s blog today got accepted. It wasn’t even in agreement with her. Some can take it and some can’t, I guess. My comment was also accepted on The Opinionator the other day.

This makes me 0 for 6 with Professor Krugman lately. What’s the sitch?

Will Krugman Print This?

Today, Paul Krugman posted the following on his blog:

Hmm. A little while back I learned from various sources that the reason I criticize Barack Obama is that my son works for Hillary. This was news to me, since I wasn’t aware that I have any children.

Now I learn that it’s important that I disclose that I was Bill Clinton’s chief economic adviser in 1992. This is also news to me, since I wasn’t aware that I worked for the campaign at all.

In fact, shortly after Bill C. was nominated I sort of auditioned — there was a gathering in Little Rock of more or less liberal economists, including the late Jim Tobin, Larry Summers, Laura Tyson, Alan Blinder, and yours truly. And I failed the test: I disagreed with the candidate about deindustrialization, and never heard from the campaign again.

I was, by the way, lucky. I’m temperamentally unsuited to public office, and it would have been a great disaster had I been offered a job.

I have offered the following response:

At first, I thought you were plumping for a job in the Queen Hillary Administration, but you disavowed that some weeks ago, and I take you on your word there. However, the thing that you have to understand is that people have a hard time grasping why you have such steady loyalty to Mrs Clinton and steady hostility toward Mr Obama. I mean, your column the other day in which you argued that Obama’s a bad candidate because he would be too much like Bill Clinton was a master’s class in sophistry, and it’s hard to reconcile that with the cool and thoughtful analysis we have come to expect from you on so many other topics.

People question your motives and come up with these wild theories because they are trying to explain that disconnect to themselves. Perhaps if you could make clear to us why you are so rabidly loyal to Mrs Clinton, people would be less inclined to root around for conspiracy theories. And since the differences between the candidates in terms of policy are minor, I think that the explanation is going to have to go beyond health insurance mandates and Mrs Clinton’s alleged wonkishness.

We’ll see if the comment gets approved or not. (And just for the record, I’d prefer that my conspiracy theory be wrong and that the comment be approved. I want to be right, but I also want to be liked. Human nature, I guess.)

Update:  Professor Krugman has posted an update to his earlier post, and gives the following explanation regarding the treatment of comments:

I don’t edit the comments on this blog, because I don’t have time. It’s done by someone at the Times. I wish it could be wide open, but all the evidence suggests that the blog would quickly be overrun by trolls.

Fair enough.  That then brings up the question, who on the staff of The Times thinks I’m a troll and why do they think this?  Of course, the culprit is probably just some Times troll or weasel paid specifically to be some kind of troll or weasel.

The Frog and Peach

And just in case you were wondering what the “Frog & Peach” sketch was like:

“I could repeat them exactly.” Words to live by.

I Wrote a Letter

In one of the versions of the “Frog and Peach” sketch, the version that Peter Cook and Dudley Moore did on Saturday Night Live many long years ago, Peter, as Sir Arthur Streib-Greibling (or is it Greib-Streibling?) avers that he was against the the Second World War. “I think we all were,” Dudley, as the interviewer, replies. Sir Arthur pulls himself up to his full magnificence and says, “I wrote a letter.”

That’s how I feel in regard to my nascent conflict with the BBC over QI. This morning I received a reply to my complaint. It was civil and thoughtful and showed no understanding of what I was really on about. I take that as my failure, that I did a poor job of making my reasoning clear. However, at the end of the day, I doubt that a more eloquent complaint from me would have had any better effect. The BBC is a huge bureaucracy, and any attempt to change policy on the scale that my thoughts would dictate would be like trying beat back a hurricane with a paper fan.

However, no matter the result, I can pull myself up to my full magnificence, however squalid that might be, and say, “I wrote a letter.”

Political Miscellany

As the race for president drags on and on, I find myself getting more and more bored with it. I’m sure that’s becoming a problem for many, if not most, people, and I apologize right off the bat for adding to the noise, no matter how minimally. Unfortunately, there are some things that are eating away at me, and this is my venue for getting things off my chest and out of my mind.

First, I would like to reflect for a moment on the whooping that the firm of Clinton and Clinton received in South Carolina on Saturday. You can talk about high turnout of blacks as much as you want, but the truth is that the people of South Carolina voted vehemently against Bill Clinton and his apparent attempt to have a third term. After months of restraint, Bill finally couldn’t help himself and he completely overshadowed his wife in the course of a couple of weeks. Further, he did it by trying to use Rovian tactics in a Democratic primary, and Karl Rove’s way of doing business, while a siren call to some Republicans and Independents, is anathema to Democrats. He tried wedge issues and prevaricating about Obama’s record, and the increased nausea felt by Democratic voters, they came to realize, was caused by their own burgeoning bile.

He was also on every TV every time you turned around. I’m surprised he didn’t show up on Animal Planet running down Obama to an audience of baboons and lemurs. And this omnipresence of his only served to remind us that his Presidency was not the halcyon days, but a time when the rich got richer and the poor got poorer. (Perhaps the disparity wasn’t as great as it was during the recent Bush regency, but with Bill it was only a hobby, not a full time job.) Liberals and progressives were reminded of how Republican his administration was in action, how he fought for NAFTA and welfare reform (a code phrase that means taking money away from the poor as quick as possible), in particular. Seeing him on the stump reminded us of how divisive the Clintons were (not all their own doing), and how unhappy a time the ’90s seemed to be. Now, I voted for the guy twice, but with reservations both times. We were reminded of how Hillary and her penchant for secrecy killed healthcare reform back before it was an out-and-out crisis.

The voters were also faced with the prospect of his butting in every time he had a chance to get in the limelight in the coming four or eight years, and they had had enough of his particular brand of sideshow. People on all sides of the current debate want change, and Bill’s cavorting reminded us that he–and by extension Hillary–represent the status quo. They are the past and should be considered the past.

Of course, now that Ted and Caroline Kennedy have come out for Obama, that sound you heard may just have been the coffin lid closing on the Billary Campaign. The stake isn’t quite through the heart yet, but I think somebody’s out looking for a branch that can be shaved into a nice, sharp point.

Finally, in an astounding piece of sophistry, Paul Krugman tries to undermine Obama by likening him to–wait for it–Bill Clinton. His thesis is that Bill ran as a candidate of change and unity, and look how that fell apart as soon as he was in office because of Travelgate and Vince Foster and and a little real estate deal gone bad called Whitewater. What he fails to take into consideration is that Obama is not Clinton and Clinton was never Obama. The attacks on Bill started well before his inauguration, in fact, well before the election. Remember Gennifer Flowers and the tearful 60 Minutes interview with Billary? That all happened before the New Hampshire primary! Republicans hated Bill for a long time because they knew that he’s secretly one of them. He has the politics of a moderate Republican but presents himself as a liberal Democrat, and conservatives sense that and hate him the way that a pit bull hates the mailman.

Obama, from what I know, has no problem keeping his pecker in his pants, and he is truly a Democrat. (A moderate Democrat, perhaps, but a Democrat in his heart, where is counts.) His pledge to try to tone down the divisiveness that’s corroded our legislative system is based in his personality. He has a talent for finding compromises and a pragmatic sense of what is going to be achievable. Republicans fear his candidacy because he’s not easily hateable, unlike Hillary, a candidate who really gets conservative bile flowing.

As for me, I tend to favor a candidate who doesn’t start out with 45% of the population despising him. I think that can only give him a leg up when the time comes to try to govern. He might have a fighting chance.

You Want to Complain? Look at These Shoes. Worn Right Through.

Last night, I found out quite abruptly that the BBC had put the arm on the people who had been posting episodes of my new favorite program (or programme to the Brits), QI, to Youtube. Almost all the videos are gone, gone, and they are scarcely replaced by the clips on the official QI website. Well, I wasn’t about to put up with such poppycock, so I did the only thing I could possibly do: I complained to the BBC. (You can, too, if you care to.)

My complaint read as follows:

I am an American and a viewer of BBC America. However, my complaint stems from a recent BBC crackdown on the transmission of segments of the show QI on Youtube.com. While I understand and appreciate the copyright concerns involved, it strikes me as being foolish and shortsighted. What the BBC is (in American English; “the BBC are” in British English) not realizing is that those segments are wonderful advertisements that spark a hunger, not quench a thirst. I would love to see QI in the United States and would tune in or buy the DVDs if they were available and would do so even if the QI episodes were still available on Youtube. There is no comparison between watching something on my flat screen TV at home and watching it as a Flash movie on a website. This is what separates videos from mp3s and presents an entirely different set of issues and opportunities. The BBC should not only reconsider shutting down segments from its programmes being shown on Youtube, the BBC should consider sponsoring them. That would be taking a long-term view of the situation. Youtube does not steal your customers; it creates them.

Let’s not let the bastards get away with it.

Why Is Paul Krugman Afraid of Me?

Last Monday I submitted comments on four different posts on Paul Krugman’s blog on the New York Times website.  Yesterday, I submitted another.  None of the five made it all the way to LCD screens of America.  Now, one could be a technical glitch.  Two could be a coincidence.  Three is a run of bad luck.  Five, I’m afraid, is a conspiracy.

Now, none of my comments were insulting.  In fact, one was actually a vote of confidence.  So, it wasn’t the tone of them.  The arguments presented weren’t outlandish, and, in fact, similar arguments were offered by other commenters.  So it wasn’t what was said.  What could the basis of this strange prejudice be?  Why won’t Paul let me comment?

I’d like to think that it’s because I write too well, and he doesn’t like me popping by to upstage him with my prose. That seems like a long shot, though.  I don’t think we’ve ever met, although we both lived in the DC area in the ’80s.  I suppose it’s possible that I cut him off at the Courthouse Metro station one day, but I don’t remember anybody shouting, “Hey, you!  I won’t let you comment on my blog some day for cutting me off like this!”

If anybody has a conspiracy theory that they’d like to share with the entire class, I’d be glad to approve it.  I’d even approve a comment by Dr. Krugman.  After all, what’s it to me?

I think I will, though, from now on, post a copy of anything I submit to The Conscience of a Liberal here along with a link to the original post. Perhaps a large enough number of trackbacks will force him out into the open.  He can run, but he can’t hide.  Not that he has any real reason to be afraid of me.  Or has he?

My Grandiose Healthcare Plan

Since I’m not actually running for anything, I’m free to pop off as I feel with whatever notion materializes in my braincase. I love making mythical policy because what I want to happen never does, and then I can congratulate myself on my wisdom when the half-assed plan that does become law inevitably tanks.

Today I am going to solve the healthcare crisis in one fell swoop. I will not begin holding my breath in anticipation of my plan’s enactment.

Of course, the Democrats running for President all have plans, most of which were developed in a flurry of excitement after John Edwards came out with his. All of those plans, except Obama’s, mandate coverage for everyone, which I think is the wrong approach. The problem with mandates is that they inevitably put another bill in the mailbox of somebody who can’t afford it. And, given the structure of these plans, mandates amount to little more than a kind of welfare for insurance companies. There are those who are touting these plans with mandates as being progressive, but I’m afraid I don’t see how milking the middle class in order to line the pockets of a handful of companies is progressive.

My proposal is simple, which we will count as strike one against it. I would expand Medicaid to include anyone who wants to join in. If Bill Gates wanted to sign up, he’d be welcome.. There would be no prohibition against private plans, and those who wanted to pay for them could go ahead and do that. A sliding scale of premiums could be established and employers should be encouraged to sign up their employees and subsidize those premiums in the same manner that they now do with private plans. It would need a new name, though. Something like Health America would work.

Since the overhead for Medicaid is 4% and the overhead for private plans is 30%, I suspect that it would be an affordable and reasonable approach to providing health coverage to all Americans. Affordable, simple, progressive, it doesn’t stand a snowball’s chance in hell of being considered. Good night, America! I’ll see you in the emergency room!

The Spirit of Karl Rove Lives

And it is a specter that is haunting us from the campaign of Hilary Clinton. I, for one, am gobsmacked.

Hilary’s candidacy must be running short on actual ideas, so they’ve gone right to the knives. A few months ago, people were curious as to what role former President Bill Clinton would take on in Hilary’s campaign, and it turned out that his job was hitman. (I guess that Sopranos takeoff they did together on youtube was telling us more than we all originally thought.) And so Bill and a few made members of the Clinton campaign family started spreading out-and-out falsehoods about Barack Obama, who is apparently scaring the living daylights out of them. They do what they can to distort his record and his speeches and interviews and have the temerity to act surprised when he defends himself. Even Paul Krugman has gotten into the act with a couple of posts on his New York Times blog that misrepresent Obama’s meaning in a statement he made to a newspaper editorial board in Nevada. (See here and here.)

The Clintonistas are a nasty bunch and foolish, I think. I really hope her campaign gets crushed on Super Tuesday. Since I have an address change pending with the DMV and since Georgia requires ID now and since my voter registration material hasn’t arrived yet, there’s a chance that I will be disenfranchised when the primary rolls along. However, if I am allowed to vote, I will, and it won’t be for the Hilary “Scumbag” Clinton crime family.

Nightmare on Memory Lane

A friend from my childhood and youth and I have been exchanging memories in the form of emails recently, and that exchange has brought us down many roads. Most of them have been sunny and pleasant lanes, awash in the golden light of nostalgia. A couple have encompassed the dark alleys of experience, the contemplation of which has opened the door to the crack house of my soul. But enough with the metaphors.

There was a time in my life, roughly from the summer of 1973 to the spring of 1974, during which I, as a person, changed completely. As tends to be true with periods of intense change, it was filled with stupidity and terrible mistakes and calamities as far as the eye could see. I turned 14 in September of ‘73, and I was prone to all the foibles and eccentricities of that age. I’m sure I also added in a few of my own devising, as well. All-n-all, it was the perfect prescription for the perfect storm, and I didn’t stand a chance.

Now, just so that nobody jumps to any conclusions, let me state categorically that I did not become a junkie or a worker in the sex trade or anything like that. I did flirt with having to go to summer school and just made it out of the 9th grade by the skin of my teeth. I spent much of the time beleagured, but also made extraordinary, life-changing discoveries. In fact, if I stretch out the timeline just a bit, to March 1975, all the important moments are there, my personal psychological journey from childhood to the beginnings of adulthood.

In the summer of ‘73, I was just another sports-obsessed kid. I memorized statistics and closely followed batting races. I played some kind of sport almost daily and watched pretty much any sport that came on. Thanks to The Wide World of Sports, that included rugby, show jumping, and, on occasion, curling. I watched bowling regularly and whatever major sport that was in season. We generally played pick-up games, something which doesn’t seem to happen much anymore. My few ventures into the world of organized sports were disappointing and lacking in one vital ingredient: fun. Most of the adults involved did everything they could to suck the fun out of whatever sport it was and to turn what had been merely an expression of the energy bottled in our childish bodies into a job.

And then the dark time came.

I came out on the other side writing and involved in theater.  I started taking good books and good films seriously and started developing a personal aesthetic.  I still watched sports some, but the magic was gone.  I fell in with a new set of friends, an oddball bunch, but good people.  They accepted me with my eccentricities and bizarre intensity, and their friendship formed the chrysalis inside which I grew and learned to be myself.

I can remember spending an afternoon with some of my previous friends after the transition had begun.  It was fine and not at all unpleasant.  I think we played Strat-o-matic football or something.  And the old ways were no longer satisfying for me, although there was nothing wrong with them.  I had simply found things that I liked better, the kind of things that Europeans might call “The World of the Spirit.”  I told them that I was cast in a play, and neither friend knew what to with that information.  I might as well have told them that I was going to turn myself inside out for a while.  It was outisde their experience, and I saw that now I was outside that experience as well.  I left that day without animus or anger, but knowing that those friendships were over and that new ones awaited.

It wasn’t pleasant at the time, and some of those memories  are still laced with guilt and regret, however, I would not be who I am today without those trials and struggles.